"Then, if you love me, why do you repel me? Surely, when one loves, one does not repel the thing one loves.... And you love me...."
The pretty mouth was all entreaty. Philippe observed its voluptuous action. It was as though the two lips delighted in uttering words of love and as though they could pronounce no others.
He turned away his eyes to escape the fascination and, controlling himself, mastering his voice so that she might not perceive its tremor, he said:
"It is just because I love you, Suzanne, that I am repulsing you ... because I love you too well...."
The phrase implied a breach which she felt to be irreparable. She did not attempt to protest. It was finished. And she knew this so thoroughly that, a moment later, when Philippe opened the door and prepared to go away, she did not even raise her head.
He did not go, however, for fear of offending her. He sat down. There was only a little table between them. But how far he was from her! And how it must surprise her that all her feminine wiles, her coquetry, the allurement of her lips were powerless to subjugate the will of that man who loved her!
The belfry-clock struck ten. When Morestal and Jorancé arrived, Suzanne and Philippe had not exchanged a single word.
***
"Ready to start, Philippe?" cried Morestal. "Have you said good-bye to Suzanne?"